Team Impossible: The Missing Scene
by Nftnat
Summary: Ever come away from TI thinking we should have seen Kim hiring Burn? You're not the only one.


Well, folks, I'm finally here

Well, folks, I'm finally here. This is my first Kim Possible fanfic, just getting my foot in the door, as Hank Perkins would say. For those who don't know, I'm Nftnat. I've written several stories on here in the Hey Arnold! and Rugrats departments (and Histeria, all of which have been purged; ff.n can be like Stalin in that sometimes). I'm a KP fan of two or three years standing with ideas, buckets of ideas (that's right, I'm playing the idea card). I look forward to getting to know y'all better as I share my view of the KP universe with everyone; I can see things happening decades in the future with their children and grandchildren, as well as several alternate versions of how things might have gone. And for fans of my other stories, I will continue them. I know it's been over two years since I've updated The Brainy Saga, but I am working on it.

Kim Possible and all concepts from the Kim Possible television series are conpyrighted to Schooley-McCorkle and to Walt Disney Animation, a division of Walt Disney Productions and Buena Vista Entertainment.

Night had fallen on Middleton, and the meeting at Bueno Nacho was winding down.

Ron finally got to do his theme song - which might have gotten mixed reviews had anyone bothered to review it - and then Kim had one last bit of business.

Standing up and collecting her trash - and anyone else's who was finished - she broached the subject.

"Now that all of that's out of the way," she said, leveling her gaze on the redhead of the group across the table, "I need to hire you."

Before 'Burn' Berman could react, 'Dash' Demond did. He choked on his naco. Fortunately for him, he was seated next to 'Crash' Cranston, skilled in emergency medicine, including the Heimlich Maneuver. The projectile flew three tables over to where Ned was cleaning up, hitting him on the back of the head. To his credit as BN Assistant Manager, he did not react, knowing it wouldn't do anything but possibly antagonize some customers, and the sitch was well in hand. He just picked up the fragment of naco and put with the detritus from the table.

Once Demond had recovered, he led off the question that was on all of their minds.

"Let me see if I have this straight…"

"…You want to hire Team Impossible…" continued Cranston.

"…AFTER putting us out of business?!" Berman finished.

Kim's gaze did not waver. "Not Team Impossible. You." There was no doubt now to whom she was talking.

Berman pointed at himself. "Me?"

"'Burn' Berman, certified public accountant, correct?"

He cocked his head, slowly saying, "Yes?"

"My Dad really needs help with his taxes."

A light went on inside the CPA's head; he knew who Kim Possible's father was from her file that TI had on her.

"Let me guess. Dr. James Timothy Possible, top rocket scientist, stereotypical genius, thinks that he should be smart enough to do his own taxes; not realizing that the job calls for a specialist. He is quickly swamped and - too late - tries to find an accountant to help him, only to have no luck. Do I have it right?"

Kim nodded, grimacing. "Pretty much."

Her fellow redhead cast his gaze skyward, mumbling, "Another absent-minded professor who just doesn't understand how much he doesn't know," in an ascending tone of voice, before standing suddenly and shaking his fists toward the ceiling. "WHEN WILL THE INSANITY END?!"

Silence reigned at Bueno Nacho as everyone else stared - including Ned, who wisely remained mute - in the aftermath of Berman's expostulation.

Ron leaned over toward Berman's teammates. "Is he all right?"

Demond responded. "He just gets a little—"

"Amped up?" Wade contributed.

"Yes." Said Cranston. "When things involving numbers come up, he does get 'amped up'."

"Yeah, my Dad can be the same way." Ron reflected. "Not usually, but he has his moments."

Finally, Kim found her voice. "O-o-o-o-o-kay. So, are you free tonight?"

Berman looked toward his teammates.

"Go on." Demond said. "We'll shut down the headquarters and meet you back here when you're finished to discuss our future."

Cranston nodded in agreement.

Berman turned back to the teen hero. "I'm free, but I'm not cheap."

Kim understood that. "My father or I will compensate you." She said, before muttering under her breath, "I just hope I don't have to dip into my baby-sitting money."

Satisfied, Berman checked his person for his calculator, his pencil, his green eyeshade and other tools of the accountant's trade; then nodded at Kim and stepped up to open the door for her (Team Impossible - while quite expensive - did have a reputation for being gentlemen).

And then there were four humans, and a naked mole rat, at the booth. They looked down toward the table almost as one, and, finding that they'd finished eating, mutually decided to call it a night.

They stood and headed for the door. Ron passed Ned on the way out.

"Sorry about the chokage, Ned."

The assistant manager couldn't have been more understanding. 'It's an occupational hazard, Ron. Why, if I had a nickel for every naco to the back of the head, I'd… Well, it wouldn't begin to approach your royalties, but it would still be a pretty big stack of nickels!"

"I heard that. Good night, Ned."

"Good night, Ron. And have a muy bueno night."

"Buenos noches to you too."

Meanwhile, at the door, Wade was speaking with the other two TI members.

"So, do you need any help shutting down the Team Impossible headquarters?"

Demond and Cranston looked at each other, before Cranston, as tech officer, handled the answer.

"All right. You help us with our headquarters, then we help get your computer systems up and running again. After that, no hard feelings, on either side. Deal?"

"Deal." Wade affirmed, offering his hand on it.

As Ron caught up with them, the conversation continued.

"You know, I think your friend might have the right idea."

"How do you mean, kid?"

"Call me Wade."

"Wade."

"An outside job, something to fall back on."

"Such as."

"Well, you're the linguist of the group, right?"

"Learned in seven languages and countless dialects."

"You could probably get a college teaching job with those skills."

Ron decided to contribute to the conversation. "We've got to get him together with Will Du, right, Rufus?"

"Uh-huh!"

"How do you mean?"

"Well, um, he knows a lot of languages like you. Um, how many was that, Rufe, old buddy?"

"Four-teen!" the squeaky voice chirped.

"And a bunch of those dialogues, too."

"Dialects, Ron." Wade corrected.

"Thirty-two!"

"Right, Rufus. Thirty-two."

Demond was thinking.

"I remember now, Wilhelm Ichabod Du?"

"Uh, I guess?" Ron responded, puzzlement creeping into his face and voice.

Demond allowed himself a smirk. "I used to teach at a university overseas. I remember tutoring Du in languages. I wasn't the only one, though; he just had to exceed his teachers. I still have the edge on him in dialects, though."

That explanation out of the way, Wade turned his attention to Cranston.

"And you."

"What about me?"

"Well, you're in charge of transport and tech, and are skilled in emergency medicine. To me, that spells paramedic."

"Yeah, I used to be a paramedic."

"Why'd you quit?"

"Not exciting enough."

"Plus not enough money in it, the same reasons the rest of us left our old jobs." Demond supplemented.

"But the other guy, the accountant, didn't leave. He still has his eye shade and everything." Ron chimed in.

The representatives of the erstwhile TI looked at each other. "True." they chorused.

"You could hold down your jobs and still be the heroes. KP and I do it. You think it's easy saving the world and holding down full-time gigs as students? Plus her cheerleading and other extracurriculars, my Mad Dog routine—"

"Ron!" Wade interrupted. "I think they've got the idea."

Indeed, Demond and Cranston were apparently giving the matter the proverbial great deal of thought.

By now the group had arrived at the TI transport. Silently, they entered, situated themselves, and Cranston started the motor.

As the vehicle rolled toward what was soon to be the old Team Impossible headquarters, conversation continued, led off by Demond.

"So, Ron, I'm still interested in your mastery of Monkey Kung Fu."

"It's like I told you, it comes and goes. I'm not really in control."

"When does it come? What are the circumstances, anything in particular happen to cause the powers to kick in?" Cranston asked.

"I, I don't know." Ron whined.

"From what I've seen," Wade volunteered, "it only happens when knows that he absolutely has no choice but to let it out, like when Kim or someone else he cares about is truly threatened."

"Really?" Demond mused.

"Yeah, but you really don't want to try anything like that just to see the power. There's that whole control thing."

"The first time it happened," Ron recounted, "I almost inflicted serious injuries, including broken neck and back. I've seen the training films of the effects of an attack like I unleashed that night; if the guy hadn't been hopped up on monkey power himself, I would have killed him."

"Ah, yes." Cranston recounted from memory as he accelerated into a turn. "His Lordship Montgomery Fiske of Fiske Manor, member of the House of Lords, currently on the outs with his government due to his illegal activities as the anagram-named Monkey Fist."

"Um, school word."

Wade filled his friend in. "Ron, an anagram is a word or group of words that have exactly the same letters as another word or group of words, like 'trap' and 'part'."

Rufus illustrated for the benefit of his human. From who-knows-where, he'd produced a pad and pencil, and was showing Ron the transposition of the letters in MONTY FISKE and MONKEY FIST.

"So what you're saying about getting the Mystical Monkey Powers to manifest themselves is—"

"You don't want to be there when it happens, especially if you're responsible." Wade answered for Ron, with Rufus sagely nodding in agreement.

Ron had closed his eyes to think about anagrams; now he opened them. His dark brown eyes locked with the darker brown ones of the burly man seated in front of him who was looking back at him.

"Mr. Demond, don't make me angry. You wouldn't like me when I'm angry."

Everyone recognized the quote, and smiled.

As the TI transport approached the outskirts of the team's complex, more noise could be heard from within.

"OH! I GET IT!"

"Ron, not another song!"

"No, this makes sense, Wade. Remember when I said you had the world wired?"

"Y- yes?"

"Well, get this: World Wired Wade!"

silence

"Stick to singing, Ron."

"All right. Anyone want to hear Naked Mole Rap? I hear the You-Tube casts of it have topped 70,000 hits."

"hinc! Oh, brother!"

Well, that's the first one, but not the last. I expect to have more stuff out there for y'all to read review and respond to. Speaking of, I'd appreciate it if those three 'r's were applied here. And for those who want to get in touch with me, on e-mail I'm , and on AIM I'm Nftnat.


End file.
